Veil of Sea and Secret: Tide and True, #1

By Christine R. Allen

Not everything stays buried at sea...

Kizzy doesn't mind skipping out on her alchemy lessons to pick the hot tieberry fields on her island, even if the result is blistered and sore hands. But what she doesn't particularly care for is being ambushed by an alluring pirate claiming her dead father is being held prisoner. Believing him was out of the question at first...until her mother admits to altering the details of their mystical family history.

Now Kizzy has to make a decision - sail with Sadyn and risk her life to save that of a stranger? Or let go of her family's past and watch the sea swallow it whole?

Veil of Sea And Secret is book 1 in the Tide And True series

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christine R. Allen
• Release date: Oct 26, 2021
• ISBN: 9798986304809

Book preview

Chapter One

Kizzy

Black sails, black smoke.

Pirates.

A thick, heady breeze glossed over my sticky skin, and a shiver raced down my arms. It was as if the wind had stopped moving.

I pushed the basket of tieberries I picked off to the side so I could stand to get a better look. Off to the East in the direction of the Emerald Sea, I could see the very tips of three blood-red sails.

A loud boom echoed through the forest, rolling through the leaves and brush and grass until I felt it under my feet through the sandy field. I covered my ears, smearing red berry juice on my cheeks, preparing myself for another cannon blast.

The sound slammed through my body into my flesh, sinking deep into my bones.

My heart was on fire. From a young age we were told about pirates, about how they were murderous thieves waiting to pluck you from your bed in the middle of the night, just so they could ransack your house for the littlest of crumbs. But they were also myths, beings who floated around the world without ever stopping at our island. Our home was too far off the map, too secluded, too poor. Pirates didn’t even want our crumbs.

A rustling sound pulled me out of my head, and I turned slowly.

Across the clearing I saw a boy, perhaps my age or older—it was hard to tell. The heat seemed to be putting pressure on my vision, and I had to blink away the swirls that started at the perimeter of my sight.

The boy stood tall, staring at me. He was alone. And in that moment, I was sure he was there for me, I could feel it in his gaze.

A real pirate, standing at the opposite end of the field. He had to be considering he flew red sails. It was the mark of a pirate ship. That and cannon fire at the arrival of a famed ship.

My brain flashed with the idea of him being something dreadful, someone who wanted to hurt or steal or do both. Pirates were ruthless, unwavering, merciless. Something, someone, I had never encountered before. The island was quiet and had been for decades, well before I was born. Our village wasn’t ready for him, for pirates.

Anything was possible in that moment. My brain rolled through different scenarios, all of them ending with me being caught and flayed alive.

I swallowed the fear that bubbled in my throat and found my voice.

Who are you?

I wasn’t even sure the words came out right; they fell, garbled, from my lips.

There was barely a pause between us before everything started moving at once.

The boy charged.

His feet barely hit the sandy ground as he raced towards me, vaulting over each row of bushes, gaining momentum with every leap. His muscles strained against his linen shirt as his arms pumped harder. His forehead glistened in the sun, and I squinted. He was close enough I could see the sweat on his brow.

Panic swallowed me whole, and instead of running back into the forest to find cover, I stepped backward and fell over the tieberry bush I had been picking from.

Tiny barbs instantly dug into my bare ankles, piercing my skin, holding me to the bush. Something squeezed my chest tight, stealing the air from my lungs. My body froze, held to the ground by the stupid bush.

But I couldn’t go out like that. I had to get up. I had to run. A vein of fearful survival I never knew I had lit up in my body—I wouldn’t be caught, not like this. I clawed over the bush and through the sand, my dress tangled between the wiry branches. Berries split and burst against my legs, sending little fireworks of pink and cherry over the light fabric.

I scrambled to my feet, my overachieving brain deciding to vault over the bushes. Only my legs didn’t work just right and as I sailed over the top of the first hedge, my dress got caught on the long, thin needles poking out. My weight brought me down to earth without any regard to my dress. It split. There was no time to play the modest game, though, so I pushed myself up, my legs stretching and driving my body forward. Tattered fabric whipped at my legs and the needles dug harder into my skin as I passed over each row. The goal was to go north into the forest, away from the village. If he was a pirate, he wouldn’t enjoy a romp through the woods. Stories had taught me enough about them, including how easily confused they could get if they lost sight of sea or sky. And the Black Forest was aptly named for how easily it canceled the sun.

Seconds separated me from a realistic expectation of escape. The dark thickness of the forest called out, and the trees seemed to bend forward in an attempt to envelop me. Blood boomed in my ears, my mouth was open and dry, and if it wasn’t so hot there would have been tears in my eyes. I ticked off the bushes as I cleared them.

Almost there, almost there.

I swung my arms harder, I pushed my feet to the ground, harder. I ground my teeth together, sweat trickling down the side of my face, down my cheek.

Almost. Almost.

The cry that should have escaped me fell silent in my throat as a pair of arms circled my middle.

Chapter Two

Sadyn

I caught her easily around the waist. She was tiny and I was big, much larger than she. I easily lifted her off her feet, which she kept moving, kicking at me and struggling. Her fingers wrapped themselves around my forearms and squeezed.

We were at the edge of the forest. Smart girl. She knew we were poor land navigators. The dense forest easily shaded any sky markers we used to guide us to our destination, and the lack of water would make it infinitely worse. If she had made it to the forest, she would have lost me. But she didn’t. She was with me now, her chest pressed hard against mine.

I could feel her heart pounding, right through her ribcage and into mine.

Kizzy, settle down. She stilled when I said her name. The question of how I knew it hung in the air, but only for a moment. I brought her down to the ground, right at the edge where the thick grass met the sandy field.

How do you know my name? Her voice was hoarse. She wasn’t used to running so hard or so fast. I knelt over her, shading her from the sun. She stared up at me with squinted eyes.

We can talk about that later. I was already in the process of pulling my shirt off.

Chapter Three

Kizzy

There was a knot in my chest that I couldn’t break apart.

Calm down, Kizzy. Breathe, breathe.

But there was a pirate over me, holding me to the ground like a tomato stake. And he knew my name.

He was beautiful in a terrifying sort of way, with hard angles and an unfamiliar strength in his voice and in his arms. Strong legs kept my knees pinned together as he pulled off his loose linen shirt, revealing a very naked chest.

You’re bleeding, I barely heard him say as he moved down my body toward my ankles. My skin was cut up, but I didn’t notice, nor did I care.

As he tore his shirt into strips and wrapped them around my ankles and feet, I stared at his skin, transfixed.

Almost every inch of him was covered in markings, scars. There were pictures of great black birds with expansive wings and a fierce snake-like sea monster. A thick, white scar crossed his right shoulder and bunched in an odd way when his muscles flexed. His stomach was covered in thin white lines, crisscrossing into a bunch of X’s. There were tattoos of three ships, all sailing under a full moon, on his stomach. There were skulls and fresh pink scratches and constellations scrawled across the underside of his arms. On the back of his hand was a large, scabbed up gash. On the other hand, a compass, its needle permanently pointed west.

I looked up at his face, my cheeks flushing as I imagined what things his leathers hid from me. The boy finished bandaging me and sat back on his heels, his hands resting on his thighs. We stared at each other for a moment before I realized he was waiting for me to make the next move.

Well? was all I could manage. He looked at me in an impossibly soft sort of way. I wasn’t sure it suited him, considering how angled the bones in his face were.

You’re surprised at what I look like?

It was a bizarre question considering he was nothing but a shirtless stranger hovering over me.

What? My throat was dry, and the word came out skipping.

My tattoos. And this, he said. As he brushed his hand over his shoulder where the mangled white scar marred his skin, I watched the compass on his skin stretch and ripple.

What a strange thing to notice after chasing me and pinning me down in the forest—

And tending your wounds, he said, glancing pointedly at the scraps of his shirt that twisted like linen snakes around my legs. Bits of sand slid down my back, crumbling underneath my dress and sticking to my damp skin. What sort of game was he playing at? And it was a game, no doubt. I was trapped in the dirt beneath an impossibly handsome rogue who was about to…about to…about to what?

What do you want? I’m not rich. I don’t own anything. Not even jewelry, I said. I held my hands up, showing him my fingers before rotating my wrists.

See? No rings, no bracelets. I grabbed the collar of my dress and tugged it down just enough to show the length of my neck. No necklaces either. And my hair is too wild for clips and combs, the damned things only get tangled and—

I’m not after gold and I’m certainly not after hair pieces.

Then what do you want?

He looked to me, then up at the canopy of trees above us. Light filtered through and glittered across the bridge of his nose, creating little glowy freckles. It would have been endearing in just about any other situation.

I need something that is in your possession, he said finally. His brow knit together, and he shifted forward towards me, out of the light shafts. Shadows overtook his face, changing him completely. What was once a pretty boy with deep brown eyes and a mischievous smile tugging at his lips lit up by the sun was replaced by a wraith. Carved cheekbones, shadows under his eyes, his hair dark and curling over his ears.

The heat pressed in on my chest, a knot growing bigger, tightening.

I don’t have anything of worth, I said. My breath came out in pants until there was no more air to breathe and my lungs refused to fill up again. I closed my eyes, hoping to regain any kind of composure in the dark quiet behind my eyelids. But my thoughts were racing. He knew who I was, and he wanted something from me. But I had nothing to give.

The panic grabbed me harder, punching through my chest down into my stomach. It had been a long time since I felt like this. I thought I had myself under control now. My feelings were mine and mine alone, to dictate as I saw fit. But right then, they took the reins, driving me to the dim place I hadn’t been in so long.

Kizzy? I could hear the boy’s voice, but it sounded muffled, far away. I tried to open my eyes—I hadn’t realized I’d shut them. But I was too tired. It was as if we had laid there for far too long and the day had slipped into night and my body was ready for sleep. I tried to speak, but the words were garbled as I could barely move my lips. I was moving then, slowly, skillfully, gliding through the air with strong arms underneath me. My chest rattled like an empty cage, what little air that was still inside me floating out and disappearing into the fields.

And then everything stopped, and the light from the sun went out.

Chapter Four

Sadyn

Even though she was limp in my arms, I could feel her pulse through her neck as I ran down the beach towards the water. I had to cool her off. The heat and my arrival had her in shock, and if I wasn’t quick enough…

At least I knew the way, having visited her island enough times. A path wandered through the forest and let out at the West side of the Emerald Sea where my ship was anchored, miles from the pebbled beach.

As soon as my feet hit the water, the wet sand squishing underneath my boots, the sea pulled me in. It reached for Kizzy like she was her own daughter, gushing over her stomach and legs, swirling around her hair and ears as I lowered her slowly. She jerked when the water touched her, flushing life back into her body. She held her eyes closed for a few more moments and I brushed away the strands of wet hair that had curled towards her mouth. Finally, she looked up at me, her chest rising and falling in a lazy sort of way.

I don’t even know how to swim.

It was a whisper, but I heard it clearly. I’m not sure what I expected her first words to be, but it wasn’t that. Of course, I knew she couldn’t swim. She was always wary of the water. And now, wary of me.

I gripped her tighter, pulling her into me as I held her floating on top of the rolling sea.

Then I’ll just have to teach you, won’t I?

Chapter Five

Kizzy

My dress was wet and every white inch of it clung to me like a second skin. It was a relief from the heat, the smoldering sun still beating down on our shoulders. But it also made me aware of the boy’s eyes and how they refused to look at anything else but me.

I’m okay, I said, taking a step back. His hands shot out and grabbed me by the elbow, hauling me back to him.

You almost stepped on a conch, he explained, but didn’t release me. His fingers were firm and chilled, likely from the cool sea.

I can stand by myself, you know. I’m not a fool.

No one said you were a fool.

What do you want? Why are you here? Why did you chase me and carry me into the water when I…when I… But I didn’t have the words for the attack. It had been so long since my last, it was crushing to realize I did not have the control over myself I thought I did.

How do you know my name?

He focused on me, his face solid stone and unyielding.

Is your mother back in the village?

My mother? What do you want with her? How do you know my name? The rise in my voice drowned out the frothy, white waves crashing against the rocks and sea-glass-covered beach. Instead of answering me, he pulled me against him, steering me up the beach towards the forest tree line. I wanted to pull away, to kick him and scream and run. But something held me next to him, a taboo, unnatural curiosity that I couldn’t ignore.

I said, how do you know my name? I should have dug my heels into the sand, but I didn’t. I expected him not to answer, to keep pulling me along, but he surprised me and stopped, turning to face me.

Does it matter?

His eyes were steeled in a clear attempt to tamp down anything else I was thinking of asking.

Yes, I said.

He looked past me, over my shoulder to the sea. I could hear the waves rushing over the beach sand, a rasping sound that seemed to hiss my name.

I’ve been to this island many times. I’ve been coming since I was eight.

And how long ago was that?

Almost 10 years ago.

That put him at just a year older than me. But he seemed much older. And he had so many scars…

What do I have that you want? My mother and I are poor. The whole village is. You should know that if you’ve been slinking around the island for years, which, by the way, I’ve never seen you in my life.

That’s because I didn’t want you to.

Stop giving me these ridiculous short answers!

The wind picked up and swirled around my ankles, drying the salt water on my skin. I didn’t pay any attention to the cuts on my ankles until the boy carried me out of the water. As the water evaporated, the salt stayed. Mixed with the sharpness of the wind, it stung worse than island wasps.

This is a conversation for later, I think.

After what?

After I find your mother.

I won’t lead you back to her, I said.

You don’t have to. I know the way.

He kept his eyes on the sea, almost like he was scared to meet mine. I was sure he knew the way. He was hiding something. It made my stomach swirl and twist. Everything was upside down and it made me sick.

Fine, I ground out and pulled my arm out of his grasp. He let me go, and I followed his lead in silence back through the path and into town.

When we rounded the corner past the blacksmithing shop and the little flower stand Margo Mainer ran, a plume of smoke rose from the back of the Frog Leg Inn’s storehouse. Ribbons of smoke billowed out from the open door, tarnishing the bright blue sky that high above us.

A fire!

He closed in on me, leaning down so close that his breath fanned across my cheeks.

Stay here.

It was an order, not a request. The authority in his voice told me he was used to bossing people around and he expected them to listen. He let go of me, his eyes affirming his demand, and ran towards the storehouse where people were gathered around.

My mind was a mess of thoughts, swirling around the clouds that still hadn’t cleared. I was on the verge of overheating again, the hysteria bubbling up slowly. I had to get control over myself; I had to calm down or I was going to lose it again. Think, think! Should I go and warn my mother that some stranger was asking for her? That he chased me? Washed me out in the sea? Bandaged my legs? Should I help with the fire? Ignore his ridiculous order to stay put? As if I wouldn’t be of any help. He didn’t know me. I was more than just a quivering mess of a person. I could help, I could be useful.

I found what little strength I had hidden in my legs and ran toward the crowd. People were running from the well to the shack with buckets of water. They started out full but half of it had sloshed out by the time they made it all the way to the fire. A toss of the bucket and only a small bit of water came out. It wasn’t enough, they needed more people.

I ran to the Cooks and banged on their front door. Their house doubled as their storefront, and they were the most magnificent clothiers. No one could match their full dresses with hand embroidered daisies and roses and violets. They were the most affluent of those in the village, though that didn’t say much. Most of their clothes, while beautiful, hung in their window, available for purchase by traveling salesmen looking for custom pieces to sell to the wealthier parts of the world. The parts I would never see.

Mr. Cook! I yelled, pounding my fist against the wood. It shimmied a little under the pressure, rattling among the distant yells from those trying to put out the blaze.

Kizzy? Why— Mr. Cook answered the door, his smile stopped short after looking over my shoulder at the storehouse.

A fire? he asked, looking to me.

Yes. Can you help? We need all the hands we can get! He nodded before disappearing inside. I moved on to Markus next door, who I knew had oversized buckets that he used for displaying the fresh fish he offered at market. He obliged and offered up his help, and as I followed him into his shop to help carry the buckets, a large hand reached around me.

Kizzy, the voice said, and I whirled around. A very tall stranger stood behind me. It was not Sadyn, but someone much taller and broader. And with a much softer face. He managed to handle four giant buckets and jogged out of Markus’s front door, headed toward the well. I followed suit, but with a much smaller bucket I knew I could manage. As I got in line behind the others filling their own pails, I watched as the boy held his hands out, stopping people from running blindly and slinging water at the growing flames.

Form a line! From the well to the shack. Pass the buckets on! he yelled and the people helping followed suit, no questions asked. The stranger who took the buckets from Markus handed them off to the person behind him in line and ran to Sadyn at the storehouse. I couldn’t hear them speak but they gestured from the fire to the well and then the stranger took the last place in line, right next to the storehouse. It seemed he was best fit to raise the heavy buckets and keep good aim.

The boy took the first spot at the well in front of me, asking the man who was there to go stand by the stranger that the boy apparently knew.